Page 13 of When You Smile

Danny pressed on. “Then, we pull back and see that he was the storyteller all along. I just think that kind of parallel and reveal has been done so many times. It’s tired.”

Charlie nodded, rolled her lips in, and made a note. “I hear you. I’m processing. I do think it’s an element of the story that’s vital, however, and I wish that—”

“No need for you to offer a response, Charlie,” Dr. Stewart said. “You can ask a clarifying question or thank your classmate for the note. The session is about taking in information.”

“Got it. Thank you, Danny, for the note.”

He smiled and sat back. Maybe he was right. Everyone always seemed to think he was. But did he have to appear so smug about it?

“The prose is gorgeous,” Emerson said, clearly attempting to inject a little bit of positivity into the discussion. You could always count on Emerson to find the rays of sunshine and hurl them at you. “I got goose bumps several times during the read because of your imagery. The rhythm is also to be admired. I mean, wow. It kept me guessing and thinking, which is what you want in a good short story.”

Charlie wrote down the note, grateful for the compliment, but taking it with an Emerson branded grain of salt. “Awesome. Thank you for the note.”

“True. Except it did get to be a lot,” Danny said. Charlie swiveled, tensing. “And when I can see the author’s footprints, it pulls me from the journey. You were trying too hard. That’s how it read to me. Purposely shoving beautiful language in my face until I wanted to roll my eyes.”

“Yeah, I gotta agree with Danny’s assessment,” Lawson said. “I felt hit over the head with the fire licking and spreading and spitting and twisting.”

“Thank you for the note.” She focused on her notebook and the construction of words even though their meaning didn’t make a ton of sense to her right now. This was a hard one.

“Self-indulgent,” Danny chimed in as if finding the characterization he was searching for. She blinked, regarded him, and contained her frustration. The critique from Danny came off incredibly harsh, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was extra-aggressive because it was her. Or maybe this wasn’t about her story as much as it was about Danny retaining the title of strongest writer in the room. She’d never admit that to him, but the suspicion clawed at her daily.

Their classmate Richie joined in. He’d always been levelheaded but also trailed after the other males in the program, not quite a part of their club and aware of it. “I think the metaphor is viable. The little boy’s creativity influences all those around him in the same way the fire’s destruction touches everyone in the community.” He turned to Charlie specifically. “But they’re right in saying you’re not giving the reader any credit. You don’t have to drive the comparison home quite so hard.” He held his thumb and forefinger close together. “Mildly insulting.”

“I never intended to insult.”

“No responses, Charlie.”

“Yep. Understood. Thank you for the note, Richie.”

The critique continued for another forty grueling minutes, and Charlie left class feeling like a beat-to-hell punching bag. Her nerves were frayed, her confidence zapped, and she wanted more than anything to stare at a wall until it all fell off her. Yet it was only the morning, and she still had a full day ahead. She’d walked into class with such hope and excitement, but the story she’d worked on tirelessly for four straight days and nights without much sleep had been shredded by her classmates in record time. That’s okay. Breathe it out. High-level writing courses tended to encourage shredding, she had to remind herself. While it didn’t mean the story was awful, she had to give credence to some of her colleagues’ points, especially the ones they’d had in common.

“Don’t take it personally for one second,” Emerson said, catching up with her in front of the Modern Languages building. “If anything, the session just offered a few signposts, so the story can find its legs and run. It’s good, Charlie. Really good.”

“Working on getting there,” Charlie said, shielding her eyes from the sun. She took her work seriously, and wading through criticism was part of the process. She had to be good enough to make it in the cutthroat writing world she was set to enter in less than a year. She also had to be strong enough to handle rejection. However, the detail that she couldn’t quite reconcile was that Danny, who was supposed to be her person, had led the charge that day with gusto. He’d never been that harsh on any other classmate, ever. In fact, he’d delivered his notes with a pompous gleam in his eye that made her feel like satisfaction lurked. That had been his ego talking, probably inflated by his time at the writers’ colony, and it wasn’t attractive. “Can I ask a question?” She whirled around and faced Emerson, the dam breaking. “Was it just me, or was Danny not just out for blood, but my blood specifically.”

“Well.” Emerson took a breath and waffled. “I think Danny seemed extra-talkative today. And he had a lot of criticism to impart about a story that was honestly impressive.” She shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. “You might be right.”

“Thank you.” She held her arm out and let it drop with a smack to her side. “So I’m not imagining things, because the look on his face, Em? The smug gratification that radiated off him with each piece of criticism he flung was so foreign and infuriating. I wanted to throw my laptop against the wall.”

Emerson frowned and stepped forward. “Pause. Babe, no throwing. This is not like you.”

“No. I don’t think I’ve ever thrown anything at a wall before, but the inclination might be worth embracing today, don’t you think?” The emotion flowed freely now, a strange feeling. “Why would he not have my back or at least put on the gloves first?”

“I’m not sure. But you can’t let Danny get to you,” Emerson added with a nod. “He’s the type of guy who comes from writing royalty and knows it. He sometimes takes that as a license to throw his status around. But I really thought the story was a gem worth holding on to.”

Charlie perked up. “You do? I know you like to stay on the positive, but I’m searching for your honest opinion.”

“Yes. In fact, I chased you down to say I think you should submit it somewhere. Do some tweaking and send it off.” She shrugged. “I have to get to work. Are you on this afternoon?”

Both she and Emerson worked part-time on campus at the library. Surrounding herself with the works of the greats had served as fantastic inspiration. “Yeah. I’m scheduled four to nine.”

Emerson sent her a soft smile. “See you there. First rounds of exams are hitting, so it should be crowded.”

She could imagine the reference section now. “My favorite.”

Just as Emerson waved good-bye and headed across the grass mall that stretched in the shape of a rectangle across the center of campus, Danny and Lawson appeared. Conferring for a moment, Lawson offered a fist bump and jogged in the opposite direction, which left her and Danny staring at each other. He covered the short distance, making his hair bounce across his forehead, and a smile touched his eyes. “Hi, you.”

“Hi.” She placed a hand on her hip. “So, that was brutal.”

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